“My buddy found a window that was unlocked and we climbed in… to a ladies’ restroom. And it was occupied. There was lots of screaming and shrieking and we didn’t know what to do. ‘What’s going on in here?!’ He introduced himself as Marty Robbins. ‘You guys come with me.’ The cops said, ‘We’ve been looking for these boys!’ We thought for sure they were going to arrest us.”
“My life as I knew it came to a screeching halt at the sight of a little pink plus sign. When I became pregnant at 21, I felt like the world was ending. Society ruined this for us. We were so convinced we had to follow this schedule of ‘happenings.’ I was robbed of the blissful success in conceiving.”
“We were still young. His death was not supposed to happen. So, when I woke up to go work yesterday, 4 years after my husband died, I opened up my tired eyes, looked over to my nightstand, and there it was. That white cereal bowl with a slice of chocolate cake in it, left there by the one that came ‘next.’ He knew it had been a rough day. He knew I needed to have 5 whole, quiet minutes to just enjoy something that I love. Because he gets it. He really gets it.”
“What started as a hockey accident eventually led to full-blown addiction and death. John was injured while playing club hockey while stationed on a base in Alaska. He was sent home with an ice pack and a bottle of pain killers. They are highly addictive, especially to a young brain. I wonder when he knew he was in trouble.”
“As my phone began to ring, I noticed there was no caller ID. My heart skipped a beat, my throat tightened, and I froze. I knew this was it. Why were they calling now? This was not a good time. My report was ready. I felt the blood rush to my head. I was walking through a busy street. Tears streamed down my face. I had waited for forever. Why had we not seen it for so many years? I was 30 years old – so much of my life had been a lie.”
“I am not a saint. I never was. But I’m real. Bold statements from a woman who didn’t stay pure for her husband, who has watched pornography, who has lusted and succumbed to perverse desires.”
“My diagnosis came when I was a 48-year-old, post-menopausal woman with no biological children. I told myself, ‘I have to get my sh*t together quick!’ Things were progressing well until a few days after we moved into a new home. I was experiencing severe shortness of breath, which I’d mistakenly attributed to chemo side effects. Long story short, 840 gallons of propane leaked into our home. By the time the leak was discovered, my treatment plan had been modified.”
“‘I was waiting for the right time to tell you.’ It was 2 a.m. on a Sunday night, our little girl sleeping so peacefully on my chest. Memories of our honeymoon, our wedding anniversary just weeks before crowded in on me. How long had I been living a lie? I remember wishing I could tell him to get out. I was paralyzed. He turned his back, went to sleep as I lay awake, sobbing. Every night, I’d dream about hurting him. I had so much anger hidden away, I was afraid I’d explode.”
“Today left me feeling like I am not sure if I want to drink, do drugs, or run away to a tropical island and tan my whiteness. But none of those were an option, so instead I cried. I couldn’t hold back the tears quick enough for no one to see me. It isn’t fair.”
“I woke up on Sunday like normal. I had broken plans with my boyfriend earlier in the week. We were supposed to go to a friend’s house to watch the Super Bowl with them. Out of nowhere I started feeling SO guilty about not being there. And it happens. I break.”
